Anything For You
by OblivionsGarden
Summary: They didn't want perfect lives or perfect partners. They wanted eachother. One of a muggle born, book worm persuasion and the other a half mad, dark lord follower.


**Title -** _Anything For You_  
**Song used -** _Anything For You - Evanescence_  
**Author -** _OblivionsGarden_  
**Genre -** _Romance/Death/Hurt/Comfort_  
**Disclaimer -** _I do not own Harry Potter in anyway shape or form. I only own the plot for this oneshot. nor do I own the song. (Which I didn't use all the lyrics from.)_

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_I'd give anything to give me to you. Can you forget the world that you thought you knew?_

Hermione left her camp with Ron and Harry three days after retrieving Helga Hufflepuff's Cup from Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts. She left most of her supplies with them, so they wouldn't need her around. They were livid and she didn't blame them. Leaving them at a time like this with no excuse. How could she give them an excuse? '_I'm sorry boys, but I fell in love and I can't carry on without him. I'll see you after the war._' It wasn't the best thing to say was it?  
She'd spent so long, over a year, thinking she was in love with Ron. Perhaps she was. But the feelings she had for him were nothing compared to those she had now. Never had she longed for an individual so much. She ached through to her very core with want and need. All for someone she shouldn't like. Someone she should hate. A snatcher of all things.  
She'd whispered too him, as they stood in Malfoy Manor. He kept an arm around her, attempting to look as if he were keeping her from running. She told him she wished he could run with her, that she'd do anything to be with him. He smiled but didn't reply. She hoped, should they find each other, that he can forget his reputation as a heartless Askaban escapee and return the love she felt for him. But in all honesty, if she was with him, she wouldn't care how he felt for her.

_If you want me, Come and find me. Nothing's stopping you so please release me._

She was wondering through dense greenery, apparating from forest to forest, for a week with no luck. She re-visited places she'd been before, wore the brightest clothes she'd bought with her, called his name, stayed in the most open spaces and hummed or sung loudly in a hopes to draw attention to herself. Part of her told her to stop being ridiculous, that she was going to be given attention but by the wrong snatcher. Or worse, a death eater.  
She left small items, usually a garment of clothing doused in perfume, behind. Just so if he was there, he'd know she'd been there too. She dreamt that he was searching too. That he'd left his group behind and was on the hunt for her. Hot on her heels. He had no reason not too. Even if they weren't searching each other out for the same reasons. She looked for love and he could look for lust.  
Some of her dreams were the most intense passionate dreams she'd ever had. She was thankful she was alone and only had herself to blush infront of. She doubted she could've talked coherently to Harry or Ron had they been here. She needed him soon, to make all of her dreams quite real.

_I'll believe. All your lies. Just pretend you love me._

It wasn't until two days short of a fortnight that there was any sign of him. She apparated back to a forest where she'd left a grey woolen hat. When she lifted the garment in her hand, a balled up piece of paper fell out from inside. Heart thudding loud in her ears, she retrieved the paper and pulled it open.  
'_Stay in this spot, lovely. I'll be back for you tonight_.' Was all it said besides a brief scribble and then '_S_.'  
She grinned and sat down on the frozen earth below. She reread the message over and over, trying to read what he'd scribbled out. A short word. Perhaps he'd started to write his full name and then realized the dangers, should someone find out he's tracking the muggle born friend of Harry Potter. But surely he's not foolish enough to even begin writing his name.  
Maybe...Surely not. He couldn't have been writing, '_Love, Scabior_.' Could he?

_Make believe. Close your eyes. I'll be anything for you._

It was well into the night when Scabior arrived. Hermione was sat with her back against a tree trunk, note clutched tightly in her fingers. Scabior smiled as he observed her, making the most of the fact she didn't yet know he was there. Her scent was stronger with her so close and he contentedly sniffed at the air. He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that she would actually leave the others and come searching for him. Him! A snatcher of all people. It'd be a fine one to tell the kids. _The snatcher and the mudblood._  
Scabior stopped dead. His own thoughts had betrayed him. _Children_? She'd ran away from safety for him, it was too soon to be assuming she'd want anything else. But still, as he watched her, he didn't stop his mind from wondering. He could be perfect for her. The doting husband and father, changed from his evil ways by love. It sounded to him like the cheesiest thing in the world, something he'd usually laugh at or make fun of. Something about Hermione made it all seem perfect.

_Nothing left to make me feel anymore. There's only you and everyday I need more._

"You came." He broke the silence of the forest. Hermione jumped.  
"So did you." She stood, slipping the note into her pocket.  
They stood on opposite sides of the clearing for a long moment, before he was striding forward and enveloping his arms around her. The wind blew her hair around his face as he placed a soft kiss on her neck. The familiar vanilla smell was all he knew now, his nose stricken dumb to anything other than her. His arms pulled her in tighter and her fingers gripped the leather of his jacket. Even now, as they stood in the dark, bodies pressed flush against each other, they needed to be closer, couldn't stand being separate beings anymore.  
"I want you." She whispered. She placed a feather light kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Only you and no one else." Another kiss on the bottom lip. "Forever." He pulled her head forward by the back of her neck and covered her mouth with his.

_If you want me. Come and find me. I'll do anything you say just tell me._

Scabior too knew of the hidden extension charm. He kept most things in the pocket of his jacket. Including, the small, one man tent he was so used to spending his nights in. He erected the tent quicker than he ever had before, took Hermione's small hand in his large, and lead her inside. They collapsed onto the bed inside, hands wondering and mouths tasting. They were never apart for anything other than to remove a piece of clothing. Coat, shoes, socks, jumpers, tee shirts, jeans and underwear.  
Scabior was so gentle that Hermione had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Loosing her virginity had been something she'd always expected to be painful but Scabior took his time, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be. Her hands roamed his toned and scared torso, learning each detail of him and committing to memory. Each scar told a story and she read them as she had her school books. He watched her, as she ran her hands across his body, watched her eyes flicking from scar to scar trying to work out what had happened each time. He too took in her form, her soft pale skin, slim yet toned stomach and small hands and feet. She was so perfect and fragile, he felt like he was going to break her but not so much as a whimper passed her lips.  
The only thing Scabior hated about her was the inside of her arm. The word '_mudblood_' that had been carved into flesh whilst he stood around and did nothing. She understood though. Understood that had he tried to do anything it would've resulted in both their deaths. He made a mental note, to find the old healing book his mother had had and find someway of making the scar fade faster.

_I'll believe. All your lies. Just pretend you love me._

After their passionate evening, they lay in each other arms on the bed. The cool air whipped in through the tent and sent goosebumps across their naked forms. As Hermione gazed into his blueish grey eyes, she realized that he could tell her just about anything right now and she'd believe him. He lifted a calloused hand to brush his fingers through her hair causing her to shiver and cuddle closer to him. He smiled when she kissed his chest.  
She wanted to kiss his lips and tell him she loved him but she feared his reaction to be a bad one. If he smiled and lied and said he loved her too she could live with that. But if he rejected her, told her he only wanted sex and left her here alone...She couldn't even contemplate it.

_Make believe. Close your eyes. I'll be anything for you._

Scabior kept his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as she slept. She shifted and mumbled in her sleep and his heart pace quickened when she said his name shortly followed by what sounded like '_love-oo_.'  
"Love you too, Mione." He whispered before slipping into sleep too.  
In his dreams he could pretend that there was no war, he and Hermione were Ministry workers, engaged and soon to be married. There was no Dark Lord and no pureblood idealism. Hermione's parents often visited their home, happy that their precious daughter had found such a perfect man. But this dream wasn't what Scabior wanted. He wanted Hermione, the strong willed, smart female who never let anyone know she was scared. The one who over looked strenuous details to find the logical solution of problems. The girl who had a scar and had been tortured, the one who he himself had snatched one day and fell in love with her determination. He didn't want a girl who had a perfect childhood and a perfect school life and a perfect job and the perfect family and a perfect husband. He wanted Hermione Granger, the girl who lay beside him right now.  
Little did he know that their wants and needs weren't as different as he feared. Hermione too, didn't long for Scabior to have a normal job and have had never been in prison. She fell in love with Scabior the snatcher, the one that had at first both terrified and intrigued her. The one who wore strange clothes and had long messy hair with a red streak, the one who was rough around the edges both in personality and appearance. She wanted Scabior, the one who had spent so many heartbreaking years in Askaban and as a result wasn't completely of sane mind. She wanted Scabior, the strong, tall, handsome, quick witted and skilled snatcher that she was snuggled up against.

They wanted each other and each other is what they got.


End file.
